


The Night of the Fall

by lililtoast (orphan_account)



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, but still, his parents die, i wrote this for my rp blog, its sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:30:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2088867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lililtoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the best night of his life. His first time performing with his parents. Every moment of it was exhilarating, thrilling. </p>
<p>It was the worst night of his life. His last time performing with his parents. Every moment was horrifying, scarring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night of the Fall

_"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen!"_

Dick bounced with excitement as he peaked between the red and white curtains of the tent, his chest oscillating frantically with uncontrollable anticipation. He watched with wide, beaming eyes as John Haly introduced the circus he called home. The older man’s voice was full of vigor and pride, and as he uttered a resounding  _"Enjoy,"_  the lights dimmed. The crowd applauded with feverish enthusiasm as Haly moved under the darkness, ducking under the tent to stand by Dick, watching with pride as the lights returned with a gasp in order to welcome the opening act.

The grey haired man placed a hand on his shoulder, a firm smile set on his features. “Are you going to be goin’ on tonight, sonny?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in a questioning yet still kind expression. 

Dick could hardly contain his excitement as he responded, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah! Mom and Dad said that I should be good enough to go on tonight!” Haly laughed in response, patting his back.

"It’s good to hear that, Dick. I can’t wait to see you perform."

Haly left to gather props, leaving Dick standing under the dim lights of the circus’ makeshift backstage. He turned back to look between the curtains, making noises of awe as he watched the fire breathers perform. The flames illuminated the crowd in a deep, red light, shining light on the awed faces of adults and the almost scared yet still entranced expressions of children. For a reason he could not quite pinpoint, the deep flames sent a shiver of fear through him. He furrowed his brow as his heart pounded, his head tilting with the slightest air of curiosity. 

He had never felt fear of the fire breathers- they were family. He was as comfortable with their flames as he was on the trapeze, so why had their light struck such fear through him? He brushed it off as simple stage fright, deciding instead that he had best find his parents to reassure his position in the ring tonight.

He skipped along the dirt foundation the tents rested in, asking off-duty performs where they had seen his parents last as he darted in the appointed direction. A grin played on the edges of his lips as he finally skipped into where his parents were. 

"Mother!" he yelped excitedly, flinging himself into her arms as she turned to him with a wide smile. She hugged him close to her chest, giving an airy laugh. 

"Oh, Richard! It is so good to see you," she said, pulling away to look at him, her eyes gleaming with pride. 

Dick laughed, hugging her again. “I’m very excited for tonight, mother. I  _am_  still allowed to perform with you and father, aren’t I, mother?” he asked, his sentence laced with spices of worry. 

Mary laughed, patting his back with a strong hand. “Oh course, Richard. You aren’t nervous, are you?” she asked, her tone teasing yet still kind. 

"Who wouldn’t be nervous on their first night?" His father’s voice boomed through the small tent as he emerged from under one of the curtains. A wide grin was on his face as he approached his family, engulfing his son in a hug. "I’m so proud of you, Richard."

The young boy hugged his father back, a wide smile gracing his features. And all too soon, they had to separate. Haly’s voiced rung throughout the tent, announcing the start of the next act- jugglers. And after them, the Flying Graysons would sweep the stage. 

His father placed a firm hand on his back, crouching as he pulled something from behind him. “Here, Richard. Your uniform. Your mother worked very hard to make this,” he said, smiling as he moved the clothing from his hands and into Dick’s. 

The raven-haired boy beamed, pressing a kiss to his mother and father’s cheeks, before standing. “May I go change into it now mother, may I?” he rushed out, holding it close to his chest as he bounced. His parents laughed looking at him fondly.

"Dress quickly- our performance is soon," his mother said, before waving her hand to shoo him off. He laughed excitedly as he ran off, moving into the circus’ dressing rooms. He changed out of his clothes quickly, before slipping the suit on, marveling at how well it fit him.

It clung to his body in much the same way that his parent’s uniforms did. Tight, but with flexibility to allow their bodies to twist in every which way. He let out an airy laugh, twirling in front of the mirror as he looked at the costume. Tonight, he would soar with his parents. Tonight, he would fly. 

He rushed out of the dressing rooms, heading towards his parents. “Father, father, look at me!” he squealed, leaping into his father’s arms as his father caught him, lifting Dick up to look at him.

"My my, Richard. You look just as I used to when I was your age," he said, pulling his son back into a hug. "Someday, you’ll be an even better acrobat that I am," he remarked, looking at Dick. 

Dick laughed, wrapping his arms around his father’s shoulders. “But father, you’re the best acrobat in the world!”

His father’s response was cut off by John Haly’s introducing their act. 

_"-and now, our closing act! Never before has the phrase ‘best for last’ ever been used so appropriately, ladies and gents! For tonight, you may witness the great, the incredible, Flying Graysons!"_

Dick’s eyes widened with excitement, and he leaped from his father’s arms, following his mother towards the ladder that would lead them to their platform. He climbed behind her and in front of his father, scaling the tall ladders as they slowly but surely made their way to the highest point of the circus.

And suddenly, the lights were on them- them, in their skintight uniforms. Them, poised perfectly atop a platform with chins raised with pride. And one by one they leaped from the platform, each grabbing hold of a bar and swinging to the platform across from them with practiced grace, doing flips before landing. 

They continued with their act, and despite how often they had practiced the routine, Dick couldn’t help but feel something was wrong. Perhaps it was the way the platform wobbled as he landed, or the quiver in the ropes as he grabbed onto a new bar. But there was something not quite right.

And as their act began to come to a close, as their chest began to rise and fall with erratic breaths, as sweat began to bead across their foreheads and on their hands, everything went to hell. 

Dick stood atop a high platform, watching in horror as the bars his parents hung from snapped with a sickening crack, startled gasps erupting from the crowd bellow. 

**_"MOTHER, FATHER!"_ **

His screams did little to save them as they reached out to him, faces filled with horror as their bodies moved closer and closer to the ground. From behind his tears he could make out his mother mouthing the words ‘I love you’ as she fell, tears falling from her eyes. His knees collided with the hard wood of the platform as he reached out, screaming.

Everything from then was a blur. He recalled the faint feeling of strong arms- not quite like his father’s, more that of the roustabout- wrapping around him as he was carried down from the platform. He recalled the black sheets placed over his parents bodies as civilians evacuated the circus. He recalled how his body lurched with weak pukes at the sight of blood seeping out onto the dirt, his father’s hand still uncovered from the sheet. 

He recalled a man- in the future, he would learn this to be Bruce Wayne- placing a hand on his shoulder, telling him he would pay for funeral expenses. He recalled the sorrowful looks on circus members’ faces as he passed them, and the way they reached out hands in hopes of being comforting yet somehow managed to make his stomach drop further. He recalled the many faceless people, and their empty, cold, mantra of “You’ll be okay.”

He recalled how in minutes, his entire life had been taken from him.


End file.
